


you & me & the other me makes three

by apocryphic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9391022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocryphic/pseuds/apocryphic
Summary: "You're surprising me, Jesse. You don't mind having someone else here?""He's you," answers McCree, and Genji's impressed with the lack of strain in his voice. "Just a li'l fancier."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanyart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [tanyart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart) in the [selfcestfest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/selfcestfest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> I honestly don’t care how it happens but two Genjis ganging up on McCree would be GREAT. Or, really, McCree doesn’t even have to be involved. Genji 1 and Genji 2 casually discussing how they’d tear McCree apart would be cool too then trying it on each other. (Any versions of Genji would be ok.)

Of all the strange and impossible things to happen to Genji in his time with Overwatch, propping his feet up with himself hardly makes the list. If anything, their idle discussion is only just worth considering. Above it, there are plenty of other things — being nearly murdered and becoming a cyborg, for one. Being in a dedicated and serious relationship with Jesse McCree is also somewhere up there, but that marvel fluctuates depending on if McCree takes his socks off or not when they fall between the sheets.

The Genji thinking on all of this cannot be sure that the other him is not thinking on it as well. He can, however, make a fairly educated (and equally as pleased) guess that at least McCree is having a nice time listening while they chat. It isn't as if Genji doesn't know full well that he's paying attention — of course McCree is paying attention.

He's the topic of the conversation, after all.

"And he makes that sound when you tug his hair," the other cyborg in the room continues, nailing a wistful tone.

Genji sighs along. His faceplate is on, but the other's had been off from the moment he'd arrived from some broken chrono accelerator or another. No doubt he'd been stolen away from a comfortable moment, seeing as that only bits of his armor remain — and what armor _is_ still on the visiting Genji is made of darker, matte grays. Where green accents would normally circle the vents on his shoulders, they're lit a bright near-teal instead, and the synthetic flesh and muscle are tinted a deep blue to match.

"He does," Genji finally agrees. "The sound that comes before he bites his lip. As if he could try to quiet himself."

He doesn't look when he hears the shift of the mattress — it's the sound of McCree re-settling on the bed. Genji can too-easily picture the way the flush must be rising up McCree's neck and dappling over his face. He resists the urge to steal a glance, to see if he's right.

"So _reactive_ ," Genji-2 goes on. His foot taps the rug-covered floor in a playful beat. Genji knows the tell ( _you're up to something_ , McCree would say, were he not trying very hard to appear oblivious). "Even without either of us doing anything."

It sounds like a challenge, meant only to raise the stakes further. They watch each other for a moment, measuring responses, making decisions.

(As if it _wouldn't_ be a chance Genji is more than happy to take himself up on.)

Genji moves to his feet, settling over the Genji-2's lap in a single, smooth motion.  It takes only a second; their knees had nearly been brushing already. Genji presses close once there's no sign that he's going to be refused and he pushes an exploratory touch into the other's teal shock of hair. He guides his hand backwards until the artificial nerves in his fingertips inform him that he's brushing the synthetics near the back of his head. Much further and Genji would be bumping clever fingers over the top of an augmented spine.

And to think the conversation had begun innocently enough — though no one involved should be surprised at how things are turning out.

"You don't dye it green," Genji notes, feigning interest as his hand strokes through the other's hair.

Genji-2 airily says, "no, not anymore." Genji gives a disinterested little hum and his fingers keep threading between the colored strands — and then he _pulls_.

There comes a soft, exhaled, _ah_ , from between Genji-2's parted lips, his eyes dancing. It isn't a particularly quiet sound. Something clatters to the floor behind them out of Genji's field of vision, but even that doesn't mask McCree's accompanying curse. The humor of it is enough to get to him; Genji laughs exuberantly and manages to toss a glance back at McCree.

"Everything okay?" he asks, eager to play the game, interested to see just how invested McCree is.

"Just peachy," drawls McCree, but he's watching them both, how Genji's sitting flush against himself, more than properly seated on Genji-2's lap now. McCree's subtle head tip that follows is enough to confirm he's playing along; Genji takes the approval and runs with it, turns back to himself, loosens his fingers in his hair with a little upward tilt to his mouth before scrunching again.

"He knows what you want," Genji-2 says pleasantly. His hands skim down Genji's sides and Genji sways into it too easily, putting on a very obvious show.

If he closes his eyes, he might almost mistake the touch gliding along his body for McCree's. Certainly, it's similar. He wonders if the detail is lost on his gunslinger, whose gaze burns into him from so close by, yet not nearly close enough.

" _I_ know what I want," Genji says with a decisive edge, but his hold on his hair smoothes out once again, turning into a gentle pet like he'd give McCree.

As much as the other Genji works to imitate, Genji's in no danger of losing himself in the moment. That isn't to say he isn't having _fun_ , because he is — but already he misses _McCree's_ breath against his neck, _McCree's_ sincerity even in the face of something so physical. It's startling to realize how very used to McCree he is at this point; years ago, he would have scoffed and promptly disappeared at the very hint of sticking around someone for so long that they became familiar. Yet now Genji is _comfortable_ with McCree and all his disarming tendencies. Even Genji himself can't divert his attention well enough away from the man. For a flickering moment, it's dizzying; then, it's delightful.

Genji tosses a quick glance over his shoulder to McCree, a question in and of itself: _well?_ The hands on him continue to move over his sides, fingers playing into the natural curve of the fibers pretending to be flesh, but Genji only looks to McCree.

McCree seems momentarily stuck watching the hand creeping along Genji's back, the thumb there curled into the edge of his armor. It _feels_ dirty on its own, knowing the implications of how he's being touched. Genji can only imagine the way it looks to McCree, who's so practiced in hooking fingers in all the right places under Genji's armor to undo clasps and take it off of him.

Genji shifts his posture to better accentuate it all and McCree finally clears his throat, wandering gaze now firmly rooted back on Genji's faceplate.

"Go on, then, I'm not about to stop you," McCree says, a bit gruff, and flashes a crooked grin that Genji likes too much. "Said it yourself. I know what you want, don't I?"

Genji breathes a laugh, an electric thrill sliding through him, and turns back to himself. Genji-2 raises a hand to take Genji's faceplate off for him, but Genji is faster on the draw, already dipping forward into a kiss. The scars scored across their faces are identical, a long-healed cut across the corner of Genji's mouth mirrored on the other's. There's a building heat to it and neither hesitate to fan the flames — but Genji once again doesn't miss the sly mimicry, how there's an added hint of teeth, how the hands on his sides ease him to rock idly into the other's lap (which he does, gladly).

Genji-2's mouth settles on his neck, along his throat. Genji's fingers continue to stroke through his hair, chin tipping up to encourage him to explore, but his mind roams and, somehow, he _yearns_.

"Don't tell me," Genji murmurs, tilting his face to brush lips against the other's temple. He doesn't lower his voice enough to hide his words from McCree. "You only want to keep this between us?"

A hand slips between his thighs, plucking against Genji's remaining armor before it's removed expertly. Genji takes note of how his other self's eyes flick to McCree for the briefest second and wonders what McCree's expression might look like in return. Brows slightly furrowed together or tugged upwards, lips parted or pursed?

"You want to include him?" asks Genji-2, matching his volume. Both notice the soft sound of McCree's breath picking up.

"Don't _you_?" Genji puts both his hands on the other's shoulders, balancing himself. He reminds himself of the game, and that McCree is playing along, and that whoever looks first loses. "I'd imagine he'd enjoy it."

"He would." Genji-2's hands continue their work, picking armor away from him, discarding it all to the side of the chair. Genji curves over him, brushing kisses against the side of his face, and his eyes are bright when he looks up, clearly recognizing the little kisses as a habit picked up from McCree. "Tell me how we'd do it."

"Press him between us and drag it out, of course. Can you imagine how he would plead?" Genji clicks his tongue once. "It would be cute," he adds with a dripping sweetness, just to hear McCree's quiet scoff.

"You think he would beg?" Genji-2 almost seems surprised. Genji might have been fooled if he didn't know himself better.

"I think he would do anything if we asked him," Genji murmurs, following it with a fierce kiss.

Neither of them are too busy to miss McCree's mumbled swear from the bed, nor the sound of him moving like he can't get comfortable. Both glance over to see him watching expectantly, and he simply shrugs up his shoulders at them, flushed but not unhappy.

"Now, why you gotta go lookin' at me like that?" McCree complains with no real ire. He drags a hand against the back of his neck, jaw working, and admits without sounding ashamed, "You damn well know you ain't wrong."

Genji moves off of himself and towards McCree, more than happy to have their lips meet as he works at unbuttoning his lover's shirt. McCree helps until Genji-2 slides next to him into the bed, and then he's sidetracked by the scattered kisses across his now-bared shoulders. Genji-2 catches McCree's wrists, holding McCree's hands behind his back with a smile and McCree casts his eyes behind before he moves his gaze forward again, raising an eyebrow first at one Genji and then the other.

"Neither of you said anything about no touching," McCree notes, but he doesn't try to pull away and there's a little glint to the way he watches Genji see to the remainder of his clothes.

Genji kisses him again, reveling in the sharp inhale against his mouth; when he steals a glance, Genji-2 is drawing away from a fresh, reddening mark on McCree's neck.

"Do you want your hands free?" Genji settles over McCree's lap finally, delighted when McCree arches up against him. "All you have to do is ask."

"S'fine," McCree says. Too fast, too honest.

Genji grins, pressing fingers against McCree's hip. "You're surprising me, Jesse. You don't mind having someone else here?"

"He's you," answers McCree, and Genji's impressed with the lack of strain in his voice. "Just a li'l fancier."

Genji-2's laugh against the nape of McCree's neck makes him go taut with a shiver. Genji soothes out his muscles with a firm touch, runs his palm down McCree's shoulders and then his arms until he goes lax once again into each point of contact. With his other hand, he starts to work McCree over.

"You prefer blue over green?" Genji asks, far too conversational for someone currently giving a handjob. "I'm offended."

"Different than what I'm used to, that's all, sweetheart." He tips his head back against Genji-2 briefly, peeking open an eye. "Don't mean t'talk about you like you aren't here," McCree says to him. "Just, uh." He clearly struggles for a moment to put words together and then manages, "Y'know."

"I know," Genji-2 says with amusement, nosing along the side of McCree's face gently.

Genji's thighs bracket McCree in on either side as he strokes him, but his eyes follow Genji-2 while he places kisses up the side of McCree's neck. Genji feels how McCree melts incrementally with each kiss, feels how he relaxes, and, perhaps most importantly, feels how McCree seems unsure who to lean into more.

Genji helps him compromise, leaning until he and McCree are flush. The proximity is enough for Genji-2 to dip forward and catch Genji's lips against his own, arched over McCree's shoulder. It's not at all chaste, clearly meant for the man caught between them — teeth slide along Genji's lower lip and he gives a pleased sound, eyes flitting closed and his unoccupied hand moving tug lecherously on Genji-2's hair while his grip slows on McCree but doesn't dare stop.

They're rewarded with McCree cursing and huffing, both looking smug as they break apart, and then Genji-2 shifts just enough to turn his head and he kisses McCree with a tenderness that Genji himself knows the feeling of all too well.

Heat washes over him as their kiss deepens; he's so familiar with what McCree's mouth feels like, the way he kisses and parts his lips so readily, so eagerly. McCree angles into it, trying to get closer and closer still, and it's something special to see how absurdly _much_ McCree enjoys kissing him. Genji-2 must have let him go because one of McCree's arms curves behind Genji, a hand grabbing at his shoulder, hanging on loosely there while Genji keeps the torturous pace on him. The grip turns desperate as soon as Genji speeds up. He's captivated with McCree's gasps, muffled into the other's mouth as they are.

But Genji isn't so fascinated that he can't lean in to brush his lips against McCree's jaw, and he isn't so fixated that he can't press teeth against his neck to feel the jump of his throat as McCree's head tips back once again against Genji-2. He isn't nearly occupied enough to miss the curve of a smile on Genji-2's face when McCree spills with a shaky noise over his hand, or the slow drag of Genji-2's touch along McCree's side while their cowboy catches his breath — but Genji is _just_ shameless enough to press in and steal another kiss for himself, from himself.

McCree's chest heaves but his eyes are bright and attentive even in the comedown, watching as Genji slides off of him in favor of pushing Genji-2 back. He falls against the bed ardently, Genji taking his spot over him, guiding his touch with the sole purpose of making himself breathless. But there's no mistaking the heat of McCree's eyes on him and a warm shiver slips down his spine; when he turns his head to meet McCree's gaze, he's acutely aware that the Genji below him is doing the same thing.

He does wonder, briefly, what his expression is like when he looks at McCree, but then discards the wayward thought — the pang in his chest surely isn't due to exertion after all, and has everything to do with the affection that burns through him.

"I'll get back to you," Genji playfully promises McCree, who rolls onto his side to get closer and then works firm fingers down Genji's back until he's arching into it.

"Take your time," McCree says, glancing between them and grinning, slow and lazy-like, after a second. Genji-2's hand moves to grasp Genji's jaw lightly to guide him into a hungry kiss and McCree whistles, low and soft, before adding, "I ain't goin' anywhere."

 

 

(He muses throughout the weeks onward, after Genji-2 has been successfully sent to the right time and place again. The next time he requires more extensive repairs, he opts for blue over green. Though McCree peers closely at him for it, he doesn't argue.

They do, however, continue to find misplaced bits of armor left behind for quite a while after.)

**Author's Note:**

> woo boy. this was one heck of a struggle.
> 
> credit to gee for the "he's you but a little fancier" line, thanks for reading over half of this when i was despairing about the quality o7
> 
> THANKS TANYA SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THE MCGENJI SELFCEST CAUSE. i don't think i ticked all the boxes with this one BUT. STILL.


End file.
